


Sipping On Iced Lattes, Sipping On Something Stronger

by not_a_total_basket_case



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Coffee Shops, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, One Shot, and they're mean to bellamy, bellamy is useless, clarke just eats a lot of cookies, miller and octavia are hilarious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13702401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_total_basket_case/pseuds/not_a_total_basket_case
Summary: Bellamy has been working at Grounders for nearly six years now. It’s not really where he saw himself now when he’d started college the same year. But he’d studied classics, which he enjoyed, but it hasn’t gotten him a job. He’s looking into getting his PHD in a few years, but for now – he’s thinking of putting in and buying half the coffee shop.He also has a customer crush. Which is fine, it’s a rite of passage when you work at Grounders. You have to have a regular that you flirt with. Miller is into the geeky, Asian boy who comes in sporadically at least three times a week. Roan is into the dark haired and angry woman, who’s always yelling into her phone. Emori likes the guy who Bellamy is pretty sure is selling drugs on the corner. And Bellamy, well, he’s into the hot blonde who works at Jaha Associates down the street. She’s comes in most mornings and some afternoons and she always flirts with him. It’s great.OrBellamy and Clarke flirt incompetently for four and a half thousand words.





	Sipping On Iced Lattes, Sipping On Something Stronger

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title (and prompt) comes from the song 'Summer Fever' by Doe Hadfield, which is song on my work playlist. My favourite coworker (@Octavia-is-a-boss on tumblr) heard the one lyric and told me I should use it as a prompt. This is dedicated to her, because she's the only irl person I know, who knows the extent of my secret internet persona and obsession. Thanks for listening to me obsess and theorise constantly, babe. <3

Bellamy has been working at Grounders for nearly six years now. It’s not really where he saw himself now when he’d started college the same year. But he’d studied classics, which he enjoyed, but it hasn’t gotten him a job. He’s looking into getting his PHD in a few years, but for now – he’s thinking of putting in and buying half the coffee shop.

The owner is kind of crazy, but she’s never around, trusting Bellamy and Miller to run her business. They’ve been doing pretty well so far, leading to Anya offering both of them the opportunity to buy in. Bellamy’s in a position that he can take her up on the offer, which means when he goes to study again in a few years, he’ll have income without having to work as much as he did initially. It’s going to be good.

He likes the coffee shop. It’s steady income that he never knew existed growing up. He works with a good group of people and the kids that work the weekend shifts aren’t bad either. He has a pretty much never ending supply of good coffee and he doesn’t have to buy lunch. It’s a good job.

He also has a customer crush. Which is fine, it’s a rite of passage when you work at Grounders. You have to have a regular that you flirt with. Miller is into the geeky, Asian boy who comes in sporadically at least three times a week. Roan is into the dark haired and angry woman, who’s always yelling into her phone. Emori likes the guy who Bellamy is pretty sure is selling drugs on the corner. And Bellamy, well, he’s into the hot blonde who works at Jaha Associates down the street. She’s comes in most mornings and some afternoons and she always flirts with him. It’s great.

“Hot blonde at twelve o’clock.” Roan says, nudging Bellamy’s shoulder and switching places, so Bellamy can stand at the till and Roan can work the coffee machine. The till is the better place to flirt, because it requires more interaction.

“Hey Princess.” Bellamy taunts when she’s close enough to hear him, part because he doesn’t know her name and part because she had been wearing a plastic tiara when she first came in. It was her birthday and every time she tried to take it off, the younger Jaha boy rammed it back on her head. He’d thought they were dating, but when he made reference to her boyfriend, she’d hurriedly dismissed it. She’s been coming in for about six months now, it’s too late to ask for her name. And Miller thinks it’s hilarious, so he won’t let anyone help.

“Hey Bellamy.” She says, smiling at him and glancing into the cabinet of various baked goods, like she doesn’t remember what’s in them by heart. “Can I get a large mocha, please?”

“Shaking things up?” He teases, because it’s just before she should be starting work and she normally gets something with a lot more caffeine. “Do you want a cookie even though they’re not breakfast food?” It’s another running joke, she gets a cookie for breakfast probably three times a week.

“Cookies are perfectly adequate breakfast food, thank you.” She grins. “And if I have much more caffeine this morning, I’ll probably never sleep again.”

“Busy day at the office?” He teases, handing Roan the receipt with her order and telling her the total. He leans into the cabinet to select the biggest cookie for her.

“You could say that?” She says, giving him a weird look, when he stands up. She takes the paper bag with the cookie from him and shoves some change in the tip jar. “I have like a million things that need to be done by Friday and there just aren’t enough hours in the day.”

“But, there is a lot of coffee.” He says, tapping the counter in front of him. “If you’re lucky, I might comp one.” In theory he knows he’s not allowed to give free drinks to regular customers. But Anya is never here and he’s allowed to give one free coffee a day to up to three friends. As far as anyone knows, they’re friends. Even if he doesn’t know her name.

“Oh, I’ll be back.” She laughs. “Probably twice. But don’t let me have more caffeine than that.” She points to the drink that Roan is holding out and Bellamy takes it, careful not to be creepy and linger when they’re hands brush.

“No more caffeine for the princess.” Bellamy calls over his shoulder, to the rest of the staff. Roan snorts and she blushes. It’s a lot for Bellamy to handle.

*

The next time she comes in, Miller is already serving at the till because he’s serving his own crush ( _‘His name is Monty and we’re going to hang out after work. Suck it, Blake._ ’), so Bellamy isn’t able to subtly take over. But she sees him and smiles brightly, hauling a bag over her shoulder and stepping into line.

Monty steps to the side and Miller is about to call her forward, when they notice each other. “Clarke, hey!”

“Monty.” She grins, adjusting her bag and leaning in for a hug. “I didn’t know you lived around here.” Neither Bellamy or Miller see it as imperative to interrupt. The shop is quiet and they’re getting information. Albeit, eavesdropping isn’t the ideal way to find things out, they’re still getting the information. And he’s at least learnt her name. He’s probably going to have to resist looking her up on social media now.

“I moved just a few months back. I thought you were still in Washington!” Monty sounds way more excited than just acquaintances, so Bellamy assumes they’re friends.

“I moved back about a year ago, but I didn’t tell many people. Because of,” she gestures broadly with her free hand and rolls her eyes, “well, you know?”

“Yeah, fair enough.” He nods. “Do you have ten minutes? Want to catch up?”

“I’m actually finished for the day, so let me just grab a drink and I can show you what I’m working on?” Clarke says. It’s a weird thing for a lawyer to say, but Monty nods keenly and waits to the side. Maybe he’s into weird lawsuits?

“Hey Nate.” Clarke smiles. “Can I please get a large soy latte?”

“Have we lifted the princesses caffeine ban?” Miller asks, turning to Bellamy with his hand hovering above the register as though he’s really asking permission. Bellamy steps forward so he’s standing next to Miller and Clarke smiles bright at him. So he should really buy Miller something nice. He’s definitely a better wingman than Bellamy gives him credit for.

“How many have you had today?” Bellamy teases.

“Only one.” She huffs, rolling her eyes. “But it was instant and I hated it.”

“She deserves good coffee then.” Bellamy pretends to decide. “So I better make it.”

“To go?” Miller asks, as though he wasn’t listening in on the conversation between her and Monty.

“Yeah, please.” Clarke says, handing Miller the cash and then stepping to the side to watch Bellamy make her drink.

“If you make the best coffee, why don’t you make mine every time?” She asks, after a minute.

“Sorry, should I not serve you?” He asks in the same teasing tone he can’t stop using around her. He smirks a little when she flushes again.

“If this is as good as you claim it’s going to be, I want you to make it every time.” She grins, watching him put the lid on her cup and reaching for it.

“Let me know.” He smiles, waving a little awkwardly as she and Monty leave the shop.

“Ask for her number.” Miller says, kicking him in the back of the ankles when he doesn’t look away from the door for a moment too long.

“She’s a lawyer.” Bellamy shrugs. “I can’t ask out a lawyer. There are probably rules against dating baristas when you work for Jaha.”

“You’re an idiot.” Miller sighs dramatically. “I’ll ask Monty about her.”

“Or you could not?” Bellamy huffs. “That’s creepy.”

“Your loss.” Miller shrugs, turning to mark down the baked goods for the end of the day.

“Save me one of the muffins for Octavia.” Bellamy tells him, mostly to change the subject but partly because his sister is home for the week and she loves Grounders muffins more than any of the home cooked meals Bellamy makes her. Which is kind of insulting, but not surprising. It’s what he gets for not learning to cook until she was thirteen.

“She back for long?” Miller asks. He has an undeniable soft spot for the younger Blake. Probably stemming from the fact he and Bellamy were roommates already when his mum died and he had to take his sister in. He’d been almost as stressed as Bellamy when Octavia left for college back in August. Almost.

“For a week.” Bellamy says.

“Cool.” Miller grins. “Heaps of time to tell her about your incompetency.”

“You know,” Bellamy sighs, rolling his eyes, “I was happy for you, for all of about eight seconds. Now I wish you never got up the guts to ask him out.”

“You’re just jealous.”

An hour later, he’s letting himself into his apartment and trying not to be too excited that he can already see Octavia’s things left out. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s not good at living alone. Not having someone to look out for is hard for him. He wouldn’t admit it on the pain of death, but he is absolutely a Mum Friend.

“Jesus, O.” Bellamy grumbles, though it’s entirely faked. “You could at least leave your shoes somewhere other than my doorway.” He kicks them aside for dramatic emphasis and flops down on the couch beside her.

“Did you bring something other than the _vegetables_ you’ve got in the fridge?” She says the word like it’s personally offended her and Bellamy struggles not to laugh and he tosses the bag of muffins at her.

“You have to eat at least one vegetable while you’re here.” Bellamy tells her. “You’ll get scurvy.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing anymore? Didn’t pirates get that?” Octavia says, looking at her phone in confusion. “Who’s Clarke?”

“O. Scurvy is a vitamin C deficiency.” Bellamy groans and then groans again when he realizes it must be Miller she’s texting. “She’s a customer.”

“Miller said I need to tease you relentlessly about it.” Octavia says, “So I assume you’re in love with her?”

“Oh my god, get out of my house and get scurvy.” Bellamy cries, throwing his head back on the couch and kicking at Octavia’s legs. It really is exactly like when they were kids.

*

The weeks go past and Clarke becomes even more of regular than she was before. She always comes in when the shop is quiet and Bellamy is like forty percent sure she plans it that way. She also comes in less with Jaha and makes a good effort to strike conversation with Bellamy. It’s like she’s actively trying to flirt with him. Which doesn’t make sense, because lawyers don’t fall for baristas. So she’s clearly just having a bit of fun on her break. Which is fine. _Really._

It’s not until Miller calls him in to cover a weekend shift when none of the juniors can work that he really gets to know her. He’s doing a 6am to 3pm, which isn’t a bad shift, because he gets extra pay for the week and the shift is over by mid afternoon. It gets substantially better when Clarke walks into the shop around 2:30. She’s wearing a UCLA hoodie over a pair of black leggings and converse, that are all covered in paint stains. It doesn’t look anything like the Clarke he knows, but he might just like this one better.

“Princess.” He greets when she gets to the front of the line. She’s looking at her phone, so she doesn’t see him until he speaks. And her face brightens, like she can’t keep the smile from showing. It’s kind of the best.

“Hey!” She grins. “I didn’t know you worked weekends.”

“I don’t normally.” Bellamy shrugs, “I’m just covering for one of the kids.”

“I normally come here when my apartment is too distracting to draw in.” She says, holding up a sketchbook he hadn’t noticed. “There aren’t usually as many distractions in here.”

“Oh really?” Bellamy grins, because he’s pretty sure she’s talking about him. Her flush kind of confirms that. “What can I get you?”

“Can I get an iced latte, please?” She asks, scanning the menu unnecessarily – she really has to have memorized it by now.

“Of course. To go or have here?” He asks, as she digs through her purse for change.

“Have here.” She says. “I’m going to hang out for a bit and try and get some work done.”

Bellamy doesn’t watch her settle into one of the tables at the back, but he does notice her. He sort of expects her to swap her sketchbook for a laptop at some point, because what kind of work does a lawyer do with a sketchbook? While he’s collecting empty mugs and wiping down tables, he notices her go to the counter and order a cookie. And he definitely notices she is still there when he finishes.

“Myles, can you make me an iced latte and a chai tea. And get me that last cookie?” He asks, coming to the front of the counter and pointing at the chocolate chip cookie Clarke gets most mornings. Myles comps everything and winks at Bellamy as he walks away. He’s going to _kill_ Miller.

After a little more deliberation than necessary, all while already holding two drinks, he crosses the room to sit next to Clarke. He hopes it’s not too bold and she doesn’t send him away. That would be embarrassing and a little devastating. But she smiles brightly when he puts the drink in front of her and he’s pretty sure he’s made the right choice.

“Do you mind if I hang out for a bit?” Bellamy asks, “I’m finished for the day.”

“Be my guest.” Clarke says, dropping her pencil and closing the book before Bellamy can sneak a glance of what she’s doing. “I’m not really getting any work done anyway.”

“What are you working on?” Bellamy can’t help but ask.

“Just some sketches.” She says. They must not have anything to do with her job. She must just enjoy art.

Bellamy ends up sitting with Clarke well into the late afternoon. He learns that she lives in a small apartment down town and moved to New York a year ago, partly to hide from her mum and partly because a few of her friends had moved. She has an adult cat that she adopted from a shelter who aims to gets paint-footprints all over her apartment. She’s four years younger than him and she has an irrational hatred of the Subway system because, ‘ _it’s so confusing, Bellamy. I always end up on the wrong train home.’_ She mentions she broke up with her girlfriend six months ago and must notice a change in his face, because she tells him she’s bi and he feels a swell of relief at the fact he wasn’t getting the wrong vibe from her. Which he then feels guilty for.

It’s nice getting to know her out of a flirting over the counter way, but he doesn’t know how to make it stick. Clarke is a customer he flirts with and someone he isn’t good enough to ask out. Friends is probably the best he can hope for.

“I’ve got to go.” She says disappointedly, when it’s almost six o’clock. “I have to meet Monty and I have no idea how to get to his place.”

“Where is it?” Bellamy asks, because he even without his huge crush, he’d help her. He grins when she tells him the address, because it’s on his way home and he can walk with her to the station and hang out for another fifteen minutes. He’s kind of pathetic. And when she gives him a one armed hug as she gets off the train, he can’t help the goofy grin on his face the rest of the way home.

It practically melts off his face when he lets himself into the apartment and Miller is already sitting on the couch with Octavia, arguing over pizza toppings. She’s visiting again for the weekend because she’s in a fight with her roommate. Bellamy has a secret suspicion that despite her aversion to vegetables, she just wants a home cooked meal and a pizza from _Nyko’s._ (Which is the best pizza in New York. No contest.)

“Bellamy, you’re late.” Octavia says, without looking up and snatching her phone off Miller. “Pineapple goes on pizza, you heathen.”

“You’re late and you raised your sister wrong.” Miller says, shoving Octavia and trying to get the phone back. “Who puts fruit on pizza?”

“Tomatoes are a fruit.” Bellamy says. “And I have a social life. Sorry I had plans.”

“Yeah. I don’t buy it.” Miller says.

“No way Bell has a social life.” Octavia agrees.

“Oh!” Miller says, holding his hand up and even Bellamy can tell it’s fake surprise. “Clarke comes in during the afternoon on weekends.”

“Oh, and weren’t you saying she hangs out in the coffee shop for ages on Saturday afternoon?” Octavia asks with feigned interest.

“Yeah.” Miller muses. “And I think I mentioned that Bellamy would probably be late because he might actually _man the fuck up,_ and ask her out?”

“Oh my god, you two are the worst. Get out of my house.” Bellamy mutters, taking a beer out of the fridge because this conversation definitely requires more alcohol. “We just had a coffee together, because she was still there when I finished.”

“You owe me ten bucks.” Octavia shouts, jumping off the couch triumphantly. “I told you he wouldn’t do anything.”

“Jesus.” Bellamy mutters, taking a mouthful of his beer and reaching for Octavia’s abandoned phone. If she’s going to be such a brat, she’s definitely paying for pizza.

*

Bellamy continues seeing and flirting with Clarke while he’s working and occasionally ending up on the same train home together. But he doesn’t make a move. Part because they’re friends now and he doesn’t know how and part because he knows she’s a lawyer – or something, Miller reminds him he doesn’t know exactly what she does – and they’re just not socially compatible.

He gets frequent texts from Octavia asking about his love life and has to resist banging his head on the counter in front of him when Monty asks about Clarke one day. It gets worse when Roan scores a date with the angry brunette and he finds out Emori is already sleeping with the guy he still thinks is a drug dealer. They’re suddenly full of advice on how to make it happen with Clarke. Like they’re the experts. It’s infuriating, especially when they make it obvious by messing up her order so she has to wait longer or telling her Bellamy will at the till in just a moment. She doesn’t seem to mind though, laughing good-naturedly and beaming at him when he rolls his eyes. His crush may be getting out of hand.

On Valentine’s Day, he slips one of their promotional heart shaped cookies into the bag with her regular chocolate one. When she doesn’t notice it before she leaves, he spends the day panicking that it was a weird thing to do. He should have told her. Or better yet, just not done it. But she comes in just in just after five, cheeks flushed from the cold and wrapped in a grey scarf.

“I’m not ordering anything because I’m running late to meet my mum.” She rolls her eyes and Bellamy feels like he’s missing a story there but he doesn’t ask. “Thanks for the cookie.”

“Oh, no worries!” Bellamy says, flushing and glancing around to make sure there is no one around. But they’ve all mysteriously disappeared out the back. “I thought you would like it.”

“I made you this.” She says, flushing a brighter shade of red and handing him a piece of card. “I had a quiet day and I wanted to say thank you.”

“You didn’t have to.” He says, glancing down at the card and smiling. She’s drawn a cartoon cupcake and captioned it, ‘ _You bake me crazy.’_ Underneath, she’s signed it with what he assumes is her signature, but also a little heart. “This is great, Clarke.”

“You’re welcome. I have to go, but I’ll see you in the morning.” She squeezes his hand and then she’s out the door and he’s left standing behind the till a little shell-shocked.

“What’s this?” Miller says, leaning forward and snatching the card from his hand.

“I – give that back.” Bellamy says, reaching for the card and groaning and Miller realizes what it is.

“You have to have accepted it by now?” Miller says, shoving the card back at him. Bellamy takes it, careful not to bend the edges. “She’s so into you.”

“She’s a lawyer.” Bellamy mutters, but it feels half-hearted even to his own ears. He’s not so sure anymore. You don’t go out of the way to bring the barista you’re flirting with a Valentine’s card, unless you want something more.

“Again, _is she_?” Miller asks, emphasizing the question. “Have you even asked her?”

“Do you know something I don’t?” Bellamy snaps, glancing down at the card again and then kicking at Miller’s ankles when he hears the camera on his phone click.

“Octavia asked me to document whatever weird thing happens on the Valentine’s Day between the two of you.” Miller says, showing him the photo. He’s looking at the card with a lot less of the annoyance in his eyes that he feels for Miller right now.

“I hate you both.” Bellamy mutters, stomping out the back and gently putting the card in his locker, pointedly ignoring the jeers from Roan and Emori. This is the worst.

*

“We’re going out tonight.” Emori tells him, as she counts the till. It’s her twenty first birthday and a Friday night. “I can finally get sinfully drunk legally and I intend to take full advantage of it.”

“Dropship?” He asks. It’s the bar he and Miller have been going to since they could both legally drink. It’s not too loud and relatively clean, really the best thing he can expect from a bar.

“Don’t be dumb.” Emori says, rolling her eyes. “We’re going to Polis. You promised you’d come.” She pouts and it shouldn’t make him cave, but he does because he’s a sucker for puppy dog eyes.

“I’m too old for clubs.” He groans. Polis is a nightclub that Bellamy is pretty sure is run by a literal gang.

“You’re twenty five, Blake.” Roan says, joining them in the front. “You might be an eighty year old on the inside. But that twenty five year old body is going to come and get drunk and dance.”

Bellamy puts up a little bit more of an argument, but then Miller joins in and it’s a lost cause. He’s going to the stupid club.

“We’re pre-gaming at mine.” Roan says, as Bellamy locks the door of the coffee shop and follows his friends. “Echo is coming, if that’s cool?” _Echo,_ the angry brunette that Roan was flirting with and has successfully started dating.

“Whatever. The more the merrier.” Emori smiles. “I’m meeting John there.” _John_ , the guy that definitely sells drugs on the corner. That Emori has successfully started a weird friends-with-benefits relationship with.

“I might invite Monty.” Miller says, after a moment of looking at his phone. It definitely feels like they’re taunting him now. And maybe if he had her number, he would invite Clarke. But he doesn’t. And there is no way he is asking Miller to get it from Monty. He’s not that desperate. Nor that incompetent.

They get to the club a little after ten and Bellamy is feeling pleasantly buzzed – but not drunk and a little less reluctant to be there. The music is loud, but the place is cleaner than he expected. And Emori is having a great time and that’s all that matters because it’s her birthday and she’s his friend.

“I promise I didn’t set this up.” Miller shouts in Bellamy’s ear after they've ordered drinks and points over his shoulder. Bellamy resists the urge to groan and turns around to find Clarke dancing with one of her friends. She’s wearing a tight, silver dress with her hair loose around her shoulders and lips stained bright red. She looks gorgeous and Bellamy can’t help but stand and walk towards her.

He taps her on the shoulder and she tenses as she turns around, probably expecting someone trying to make a move. And while he might be that guy, he’s hoping she wants it too. She grins when she sees it’s him and wraps her arms around his neck. He hugs her back.

“Hi princess.”

“Hey Bellamy. What are you doing here?” She asks, taking his hand and leading him onto the balcony, where it’s a little quieter. Someone pushes passed him, nudging his shoulder and knocking the drink he’s holding. He manages to catch himself before he spills the whole thing on Clarke, but some splashes down her arm and he tenses.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says, reaching for a napkin on the table and handing it to her. “You’re not going to sue me are you?” He tries to joke, hoping she’s not going to be mad. But she laughs, taking the napkin and drying her arm.

“Why would I sue you?” She giggles.

“Because you’re a lawyer and I just tipped my drink on you?” He suggests, feeling a wave of relief when he realizes she’s not angry.

“It was just a few drops. No harm done.” Clarke smiles. “And I’m definitely not a lawyer.” Bellamy’s whole perception of her shifts and suddenly every excuse he’s ever made is no longer valid.

“You’re not?” He asks, a little dumbly.

“I work at the museum.” Clarke laughs. “I do reception and they’re going to show some of my art at a gallery opening in a couple of weeks. Why do you think I’m a lawyer?” She screws up her nose at the word and he laughs.

“I just assumed. Because you were always in with Jaha. And the fancy uniform.”

“Wells was my best friend growing up.” Clarke smiles. “And the uniform is for the museum.” He feels like asking Clarke out is a possibility now and he feels like such a dick for insisting he couldn’t before.

“There you are!” Miller calls, pushing his way onto the balcony and standing beside them. “We thought you’d bailed already.”

“She’s not a lawyer.” Bellamy tells Miller with a grin, hearing Clarke giggle beside him.

“I know.” Miller says, rolling his eyes. “Monty told me and then told me not to intervene. Now are you going to ask her out, now that you know she’s not a fucking lawyer?”

“Yeah.” Bellamy says, turning to Clarke. “Do you want to get coffee somewhere I don’t work at?”

“Now?” Clarke asks, with a soft smiling, slipping her small hand into his.

“Yeah. Now is perfect.” He smiles, letting her lead him out of the club. They stop briefly to tell both their friends that they’re leaving.

He can’t keep the smile off his face when she tugs him down to kiss him in the street. It’s quick, a promise of what’s to come.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” She admits, when she pulls away. “Now lets go get some coffee.”

"It'll be shitty coffee." Bellamy tells her, ducking his head and kissing her again. "It's midnight. Grounders isn't open." 

"Let's go get some shitty coffee then." She smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Having an issue where this was supposed to be a chapter of ‘I Want To Fall In Love With The Stars In Your Eyes’, but I can’t even lie to myself anymore. 4.5k words is too long for drabbles/short one shots.
> 
> Honestly – this show was setting itself up for a coffee shop au. Grounders? Best name for a coffee shop. 
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life and bring me joy. Hit me up on tumblr, [heree](http://mynameisnotkatlyn.tumblr.com/) or [here](https://not-a-total-basket-case.tumblr.com/).


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